


Are You Sure They Are Rules? Or Are They Guidelines?

by embalmer56, princessladybug



Series: The Adventures of Baby Sherlock and Daddy Watson. [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Play, At least there should be infantilism later, Implied Relationships, Infantilism, Little Scientist Sherlock, M/M, Mention of spanking, Pre-Slash, Safewords, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but not actual spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embalmer56/pseuds/embalmer56, https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessladybug/pseuds/princessladybug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, they are definitely rules.</p><p>Little Sherlock and Daddy Watson negotiate the rules, consequences, and rewards of their new relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Sure They Are Rules? Or Are They Guidelines?

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Our usual.  
> 2\. Apologize as we bounce out of order, we don't really have a timeline with this 'Verse.  
> 3\. Future events may include smut, and might be centered around actual canon events.  
> 4\. Comments make us blush like virgins...no literally... Emmy blushes at everything, which Stacy finds adorable.  
> 5\. Alpha tested, beta approved.

* * *

 

"You ready to talk about the new rules, Pet?" 

 

Sherlock was busy fiddling around with beakers and flasks on the kitchen table. They were mostly full of water and other harmless chemicals. John had not liked the idea of Sherlock playing with dangerous things while he was so far regressed. Sherlock looked up, his goggles falling of the bridge of his nose. 

 

"I detest rules," he replied snidely, brushing his long fingers through his curly bangs. 

 

"Hmm. No, you are Sherlock Holmes, after all," John Watson rolled his eyes as he dismissed Sherlock's words. "That doesn't matter anymore, love. Little one's have rules, and I intend to make sure they are followed."

 

Sherlock dipped a stick into a beaker of water and he stirred, making a loud, obnoxious clinking noise. He pretended to ignore John's announcement. 

 

John cleared his throat before he began to dump the beakers of water into the sink. "Right then, we'll do this the hard way."  

 

Sherlock gasped and reached for his prized experiments with grabby fingers. "No! No! Daddy! No!" 

 

When it was obvious that he was not going to pry the glass from John's hands he backed off. Collecting the rest of his experiments, he slid them close to him so he could wrap his arms protectively around his precious 'chemicals.' "Touching unmarked chemicals is dangerous; it’s the first rule of experimentation Daddy."  

 

"Ah, so you do follow rules," John pointed out, raising a challenging eyebrow.

 

Sherlock fumed, huffing out of his flared nostrils. John had a point. With a consenting grunt, he left his chemicals on the table, and walked over to John. His shoulders were slumped in defeat and he pouted at his feet.

 

"Good boy," John praised, patting him on the back. "Let's go cuddle on the sofa, yeah?" 

 

Sherlock preened at the praise and allowed John to guide him into the sitting room. John sat down and found himself with a lap full of squirming detective.

 

Sherlock wiggled until he was able to press his face into the crook of John’s neck. “Comfortable?” John asked with a chuckle to which he got a hum of approval.

 

“I know the rules can be kind of upsetting, especially for little boys like my Sherlock.”

 

“I don’t like them. Why do we need them?”

 

“Well it’s Daddy’s job to take care of you, and the rules are there to help keep you safe and healthy.” Sherlock snorted derisively at that. “Brat! How about cause Daddy says so?” 

 

Sherlock pulled away to look at John, his eyes dark and unreadable and instantly John regretted his comment.

 

“Sorry, Pet. Daddy shouldn’t tease that way. We are going to lay out the rules because it helps little boys behave if they know what’s expected of them, and what’s going to happen if they don’t follow the rules.”

 

Sherlock blinked a few times, but seemed subdued by that answer. 'Because Daddy said so' was not a suitable answer for Sherlock's over active mind. He needed explanations and logical reasoning. Without those things, his brain would pick apart every ruddy thing that John said. He did not like that part. He just wanted to be little. 

 

He laid his head back on John's jumper covered shoulder; his favorite place to be. "Alright, Daddy."

 

John instinctively rested one of his hands on the back of Sherlock's head, his fingers pulling through the knotty curls. "You're a good boy." He praised as he gave Sherlock a quick kiss to the top of his brow. 

 

Sherlock seemed to respond well to the praise, something that genuinely surprised John. Rules were rules, and while John would expect them to be followed, he was more excited to talk to Sherlock about rewards rather then the punishments. He pulled his detective closer to his body. Cuddles were not a reward, cuddles were just cuddles and John enjoyed them just as much Sherlock.

 

"Right, then," John began; he readjusted Sherlock so he had access to the tea table. He had a pen and some paper waiting for him. "We'll write them down, alright love?"

 

"What do you think rule number one should be?" John pointed his pen at the tablet and waited. Sherlock remained quiet. He didn't want rules, and he surely did not want to make them for himself. It felt incriminating. 

 

"I'll go first then," John announced boldly, tapping the pen on the paper for emphasis. "Sherlock should always respect Daddy and others. He should not be rude or disrespectful." 

 

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably in John’s lap, his pout broadening. Being rude was just part of his personality. He did not mean too, it just came out of his mouth. Sometimes he felt bad later, but most of the time he didn’t even know that he had been rude to begin with.

 

"That does not mean you're not allowed to tell me how you feel," John explained, rubbing his hand down Sherlock's robe clad back. "You may always do that, just with a respectful tone, no shouting, and no foul talk." 

 

“I’m going to be in trouble constantly.” Sherlock mumbled forlornly.

 

“You’re Daddy’s smart boy. I’m sure you’ll manage.” John said as he wrote out the rule in his looping long hand.

 

“You can tell a lot about a man by the way he dots his I’s.”

 

“Yes. I’m sure you can. You’re turn Sherlock, what’s the next rule we need to put on the list.”

 

“I really don’t want too…” But a glance at Daddy’s face stalled Sherlock’s argument. “Safe…you said being safe.”

 

“That’s a perfect rule.” John dropped a kiss on his forehead. He read the rule aloud as he wrote it out. “Sherlock will not unnecessarily risk his health or safety. Daddy will be the one to deem whether or not a risk is necessary.”

 

“What? No Daddy. I need to be able to...” John could feel the younger man in his lap about to strop, pulling away from his embrace so that he could stomp around the room.

 

“Sherlock…Sherlock…SHERLOCK.” The detective froze half way off of John’s lap and turned to stare wide eyed him. Daddy had never shouted at him before. “Have I ever done anything that would interfere with a case?” John’s voice softened as he watched Sherlock’s face crumple.  He rubbed a hand down the boy’s long spine. “Well? Have I?”

 

“No…but I.” John touched a finger to his lips.

 

“If you run off, half-cocked, and almost get yourself killed, again, there will be consequences.  I know the work. I’ve been there. But endangering yourself because you’re impatient, or not willing to listen, or whatever, is no longer acceptable.”

 

“But…”

 

“No, Sherlock. This one is nonnegotiable.” He put the pad of paper down on the sofa and pulled the boy back down, wrapping his arms around his middle and giving him a squeeze. “Daddy loves you, little man. You are too important. Daddy would be lost without you.” John punctuated each statement with a kiss to the suddenly tear streaked face. “In fact, that is going to be on our list. Daddy loves Sherlock. So we can remember why we have the rules in the first place.”

 

He dropped another kiss on Sherlock’s forehead before he wrote that at the very top, making it bold and visible to Sherlock. "The Daddy Loves Sherlock Rules." 

 

John could not be sure, but he was almost positive that he heard a contented sigh come from Sherlock. The boy snuggled close to him, his fingers gripping the arms of his jumper. 

 

"My turn," John announced, resting his chin on Sherlock's head. "May I expand on the previous rule? I think we need to be very specific on jeopardizing your health, yeah?" 

 

Sherlock huffed loudly, his nostrils flaring to show his agitation with this whole situation. He had an inkling as to what John was about to write on that pad. He didn’t have to use his super sleuth skills to figure it out. 

 

John also knew the next few points he needed to make were likely to send the boy into a full out strop, so he wrapped his free arm around his waist to keep him planted on his thighs.

 

"Sherlock will make an honest effort to get eight hours of sleep at night," John wrote on the paper.

 

"John, that is unreasonable, nobody can make someone sleep." As John had predicted, Sherlock had an objection and was attempting to show his displeasure by thrashing around on John's lap in a desperate attempt to get up. John held him tightly, until he finally settled, his chest rising rapidly in quick, defiant breaths.

 

"What is an honest effort?" He finally muttered.

 

"Glad you should ask," John nodded as he made a note on the pad of paper. "You do not have to sleep, but you must try. You do not leave the bed after Daddy puts you there, unless you need the loo or it's an emergency." He paused and then added. "A REAL emergency Sherlock. You will lay in your bed and rest. No books, no laptop, no smartphone. Just you."

 

"But my mind…" he argued, this time more softly.

 

"I understand, baby boy. Sometimes your mind just does not stop thinking. That's why I made it a trying rule only, it would be cruel of me to punish you for not being able to fall asleep," John rubbed his back as he spoke, hoping that Sherlock would understand that John had no intention of using the rule as an excuse to punish him. 

 

When Sherlock made no further objections, John moved on. "The next rule about your health,” John scribbled the word 'Eating' across the paper. "Sherlock will eat three reasonable meals a day." 

 

“Ha! I already do that one!” Sherlock smirked triumphantly.

 

John barked out a laugh. “Chips are not a meal Sherlock. And a single serving of chips that it takes you all day to eat does equal several meals.”

 

“I eat more than chips!” Sherlock squawked, giving John a haughty glare. “And anyways, why would I eat if I’m not hungry? That’s just patently ridiculous.”

 

“Eating barely enough to stay alive is patently ridiculous.” Sherlock growled at him but John pushed on. “The human brain uses about twenty percent of the calories we consume in a day. Do you really think that that massive intellect of yours is being supported properly by a single serving of chips?” Sherlock continued to huff but stayed reclined against his chest. 

 

“We can have meals together. I promise, after a bit, you’ll really enjoy it.” Sherlock, who had gone still against his chest, hummed his assent. It did sound alright.

 

“There is one last rule I’d like to add, Sherlock. This one is a bit different but just as important as the rest.” John glanced down at the soft face of his boy and steeled his reserve. “Sherlock will not manipulate or lie to Daddy.” He jotted it down on the list quickly, trying to gauge the response coming from his lap. He could see the younger man’s eyes working, mind sifting through their past, and their possible future.

 

“I can’t promise that one.” Sherlock’s voice was quiet, his mind still working.

 

“I’m not asking you to promise, Pet. You will just do, or you will deal with the consequences.” 

 

“I don’t want a rule I know I’m going to break.”

 

“Darling, you’re going to break all of these rules at one point or another. That’s just something that’s going to happen.” Sherlock looked up at him owlishly, huge unblinking eyes, looking for something. John tried not to fidget, he’d expected to have to spank Sherlock to get him amenable to this last rule, but this was much more unsettling.

 

“What are the consequences?”

 

"That depends on the severity of the disobedience, yeah?" John replied as he tapped the pencil on the pad as he thought. "I'm sure that you don't want a smack every time you do something naughty."

 

Sherlock cringed and squirmed on John's lap. "In the future can we refrain from using that word?"

 

John almost laughed out loud again. "Why, love?" 

 

Sherlock struggled to answer. He knew that anything he said in this moment would appear childish. How could he tell John he didn't like the word because it made him feel little when that was the whole idea? He continued to wiggle around; frustrated with how the ability to access his extensive vocabulary seemed to disappear when he was on John's lap. "I just don’t like it."

 

The good doctor chuckled again, patting Sherlock's back lightly. "No, I think we will use it; it’s perfect in the right context for you." He listened to Sherlock’s frustrated breathing again, before he started back up. "Right, the consequences; sometimes a smack will do, but there are other things. Time out, loss of privileges, writing lines, early bedtimes… I think we'll leave that up for me to determine, yeah?" 

 

"What if you are cruel?" Sherlock accused with the most adorable pout that John had ever seen. It was not a put on, but genuine, and John felt himself growing more attached to the innocent part of Sherlock Holmes. 

 

He reached down to rub a sharp cheekbone with his thumb, attempting to settle him. "Have I ever been cruel to you before, love?" 

 

Sherlock shook his mop full of curls before he leaned into John's hand.

 

"Right; and I don't expect to ever be cruel to you," John promised lovingly. "I care about you very much, and I never want to hurt you."

 

"Smack's hurt," Sherlock reminded him, wrinkling his brow.

 

"Right," John backtracked a little, a grin on his face. "I don't want to hurt your heart... your bum is a different story." He worked his hand under Sherlock to playfully pinch one of his cheeks. To his surprise Sherlock Holmes giggled, and John had never heard a more pleasant or delightful sound. 

 

"It's not all bad things, you know?" John explained. "We can have rewards too. I would much rather reward you for good behavior then punish you for naughty behavior."

 

Sherlock scoffed at the use of the dreaded word, but seemed very interested in the prospect of rewards. "Like what?"

 

"Well it depends on how good your behavior is doesn't it." Sherlock hummed against his shoulder.

 

"But your rewards could be picking out our takeaway supper, or getting extra time for your experiments." He could feel the boy's smile through his jumper at the last one. 

 

"We could also pick some treats you could earn as rewards too. Sweeties or small toys...or, if you're very well behaved; we could start buying the things on your wish list." John said, tipping his chin at Sherlock's laptop on the desk. The boy in his lap started to squirm. 

"Really?! Cause I have been looking at this detonator set and I think..." John stopped him with a swat to his hip.

 

"What was this rule right here again?" John asked pointedly, pen tapping the rule on the page. 

Sherlock bit his lip as he stared up at Daddy through his curls. He opened his mouth to retort but Daddy's cocked eyebrow stopped him. Sherlock turned and read the rule off the page, “Sherlock will not unnecessarily risk his health or safety."

 

"Right. So, with that in mind, do you really think Daddy is going to buy you a detonator set?"

 

"Maybe?" Sherlock said around an impish grin.

 

"No." John said plainly. Sherlock shrugged and hummed his assent, leaning back into daddy. "One last thing before nap time, Pet," John kept talking over the sudden fuss happening in his lap. "Daddy reserves the right to change or add to the rules as needed. You are always allowed to respectfully object to any of my decisions, new rules, or punishments and rewards, and I will always consider your points, but ultimately it's my decision. Alright?" John pulled back to look at Sherlock's face; he’d stopped fussing and his whole attention was on John. "We're also going to have a safe word, a word to keep Sherlock safe. If we are doing something you cannot handle then you can use our word and no matter what is happening, we stop."

 

“Even if I’m getting smacks?” The detective asked in an impossibly small voice.

 

“Even if you are getting smacks. But remember this rule here.” John said, making a star next to the rule about manipulation. “If you safe word just because you don’t want a spanking then we are going to have to have a serious discussion about our relationship and whether we can keep up with me as the Daddy and you as my little boy. Understand?”

 

“Yes, Daddy. I understand.”

 

“Good boy.” John mumbled into his curls. “What would you like our safe word to be, Pet?”

 

"Red Beard." The boy’s face was sedate. Daddy was clever and had thought of everything.

 

“Wonderful. I’m going to add that to our list so we both remember.” John scrawled the word to the end of the list. “And now we’re done. Not so terrible, huh?”

 

Sherlock made a face into his shoulder but kept his snark to himself, which John counted as a victory.

 

John began to pet Sherlock. They stayed snuggled on the sofa for a bit before John moved to usher the little detective off of his lap. "Alright Pet, nap time." John said around a yawn. The younger man immediately started to huff his displeasure. "Whinging isn't a good idea if you'd like to pick our takeaway, Pet." John stood up stiffly, his legs protesting loudly. 

"I don't like sleeping alone." Sherlock said with a pout.

 

“Who said you were sleeping alone?” John asked, wrapping an arm around his middle and tugging him upstairs. “We’ll have a sleep and some takeaway, and then you can finish your experiments before your bath. Sound good?”

 

Sherlock gave him a shy smile. “Sounds perfect, Daddy.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
